The Progeny
If it's Friday.....
...it's another major appliance biting the dust.
Kendra called yesterday with some rather graphic descriptions of the oven. Sparks, flames and smoke were all mentioned. Reports have it that Pastor John has already been out, checked online, and ordered a replacement part.
This evening, it appears that the dryer is not...uh....drying. It goes and blows but there is no heat. Loren has put in a repair order online (is this a great world, or what!) and someone should be there by Thursday. Hopefully something simple, like a sensor.That dryer had SOME NERVE conking out just bef0re the weekend. The kids will prevail upon neighbors, and perhaps our church, until it is fixed. (Or, you could just forego washing and changing clothes. It's up to you guys. After all, your mom's not there, so who's gonna know? :-)
_____________________
And now, for a late breaking news bulletin on the open house with free flowing wine and champagne.....
I ventured down the back stairway to the exercise room in the basement. Not even an evening soiree could keep me from my appointed rounds on the treadmill. I heard soft, cultured voices as I passed the ground floor, and thought I caught a glimpse of someone's high heels. (is it just me, or does evening soiree sound a tad redundant?)
*exercised diligently*
As I crept back up the stairway, there was a distinctly fishy odor permeating the atmosphere. Some of those crustaceans had lost more than just their peel. I retired to #52, unseen by the glitterazti. Loren and I bided our time in the room, quietly reading, perusing the web, and receiving appliance damage reports.
When it seemed safe, we tip-toed down to the dining room and kitchen, where I, with incredible, yet humble foresight, had supper awaiting in a crockpot. Oh, there were a few "suits" hanging around. Maybe they hoped for a glam shot with one of the residents. (No one asked us. Probably just shy) I, on the other hand, was hoping for a few tasty morsels. Some of the leftover hor d'oeuvres, perhaps? But no! They were cleaned up. Wrapped up. Put away. Not even one of those weird little thingamajiggys with bacon 'round it was left. *sniff*
It's ok. I still have my husband, my chocolate, and my 13-books-I've-culled-from-various-shelves.
At least I can communicate with the outside world. Even if it's hardly ever reciprocated....... .........It's alright........ Really.
*sniff*
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Kendra called yesterday with some rather graphic descriptions of the oven. Sparks, flames and smoke were all mentioned. Reports have it that Pastor John has already been out, checked online, and ordered a replacement part.
This evening, it appears that the dryer is not...uh....drying. It goes and blows but there is no heat. Loren has put in a repair order online (is this a great world, or what!) and someone should be there by Thursday. Hopefully something simple, like a sensor.That dryer had SOME NERVE conking out just bef0re the weekend. The kids will prevail upon neighbors, and perhaps our church, until it is fixed. (Or, you could just forego washing and changing clothes. It's up to you guys. After all, your mom's not there, so who's gonna know? :-)
_____________________
And now, for a late breaking news bulletin on the open house with free flowing wine and champagne.....
I ventured down the back stairway to the exercise room in the basement. Not even an evening soiree could keep me from my appointed rounds on the treadmill. I heard soft, cultured voices as I passed the ground floor, and thought I caught a glimpse of someone's high heels. (is it just me, or does evening soiree sound a tad redundant?)
*exercised diligently*
As I crept back up the stairway, there was a distinctly fishy odor permeating the atmosphere. Some of those crustaceans had lost more than just their peel. I retired to #52, unseen by the glitterazti. Loren and I bided our time in the room, quietly reading, perusing the web, and receiving appliance damage reports.
When it seemed safe, we tip-toed down to the dining room and kitchen, where I, with incredible, yet humble foresight, had supper awaiting in a crockpot. Oh, there were a few "suits" hanging around. Maybe they hoped for a glam shot with one of the residents. (No one asked us. Probably just shy) I, on the other hand, was hoping for a few tasty morsels. Some of the leftover hor d'oeuvres, perhaps? But no! They were cleaned up. Wrapped up. Put away. Not even one of those weird little thingamajiggys with bacon 'round it was left. *sniff*
It's ok. I still have my husband, my chocolate, and my 13-books-I've-culled-from-various-shelves.
At least I can communicate with the outside world. Even if it's hardly ever reciprocated....... .........It's alright........ Really.
*sniff*
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posted by Ma Hoyt | 9:45 PM
4 Comments:
Hi Becky
Can't stand to think of a grown woman crying..... (at least not over her blog) I tried to post several times the other day and it WOULDN'T work so I gave up....I read your posts faithfully and was starting to feel a little guilty. I know all about your doings (or at least some of them) and can lurk in the sidelines reading blogs! You sound like you are getting along well. Everything at the Hoyt house is ticking along despite a few *minor* excitements! And since I can't remember what I was trying to post the other day I will head toward my bed. It is too late for this ole lady to be up. Iwanted you to know though that not a day goes by that I pray for you in particular....sometimes for Loren too. After all, he only had a heart transplant....you are the caretaker.... ;-0
Debbie
Thanks, Deb :-)
Above all, us old ladies need our sleep.
Sorry that you are not a little closer to East Texas or that I am not a little closer to your home. Those are rather simple things to fix. That is one of the services that I am pert of in my church. Let me know how everything turns out.
Mechcanoer, "Ma" appreciates the sentiment.
I think I finally understand your moniker :-)
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